No Choice
by Number Eleven is my OC
Summary: Being drafted for war at 16 doesn't leave you much of a choice.
**I get random and fun ideas all the time.**

 **And OOC-ness is on purpose.**

 **I do not own Hunter x Hunter**

 **Enjoy**

* * *

 _"Hey Killua... I... I don't want to do this. Why do we have to do this?"_

 _"We have to Gon. The government is drafting everyone. Hell, Leorio got drafted to be a military doctor."_

 _"And Kurapika got drafted too, didn't he?"_

 _"Yeah, he's been out there for a while. They always take the adults before they take the teens."_

 _"But... I... I don't want to kill anyone."_

 _"Hey, don't worry Gon. I'll stick right with you the whole time."_

 _"But... I hate this. I don't want to do this."_

 _"Yeah, neither do I. But we don't get a choice. At least we'll get confirmation that Kurapika and Leorio are both okay, right?"_

 _"Yeah, I guess."_

 _"Stop sulking Gon. There's nothing we can do, and if there was, then we would do it."_

 _"Okay."_

 _"All we can do is try to keep ourselves alive to do our best to get back to Mito-san and Alluka."_

* * *

"Shit!" Killua declared, realizing his gun was out of ammo.

"Careful Killua!" Gon shouted, pulling him down into the trench while he reloaded his machine gun.

"Don't do anything stupid Zoldyck!" Kurapika shouted.

"Yeah, I got it Kurta!" Killua shouted at the blonde.

Gon finished reloading his own weapon and stuck the barrel above the lip of the trench and stuck his head out of the hole. He began firing wildly.

"Try aiming Gon!" Killua commanded.

"Sorry!" He replied.

'I hate this. I don't want to do this. I don't want to kill anyone. I just wanna go home.'

And then a bullet made contact with Gon's shoulder.

"FUCK!" Gon shouted, falling back into the trench, clutching his left shoulder with his right hand.

"GON!" Kurapika and Killua shouted simultaneously.

"Hey, We need to get him out of here!" Kurapika shouted to any of the soldiers firing or reloading.

Two guys managed to run out and pick Gon up to get him back to Leorio.

"Hey, Kurta, he better be okay." Killua shouted.

"Shut up Zoldyck." Kurapika replied.

* * *

"Hey, Killua."

"Yeah Gon?"

"Why... why do we still have to do this? Everyone else... everyone else in our squadron... is confirmed dead, except Kurapika, who's MIA. So why do we have to stay?"

"Because that's what the government wants."

"And... they're not even gonna look for Kurapika. What... what if they're torturing him? What if they're gonna kill him? What if he's suffering waiting for us to show up to save him?"

"Kurta can take care of himself. He's fine, I'm sure of it."

"You're lying Killua."

"Yeah, I am."

"I... just wanna go home. I'm sick of this place. I'm sick of all the shooting. I'm sick of watching people die. It's been almost a year. We've both been shot multiple times. Leorio's dead, Biscuit's dead, Knuckle, Shoot, Morel, Knov, Palm, Ikalgo, Meleoron, Hanzo, Melody, Basho, all of them are dead. So, what's the point? It's not like just the two of us can kill all of them."

"But that doesn't matter to the big guys. They just want us to try our best."

"Well, are we just supposed to leave Kurapika to die, or be tortured, or whatever the hell they're doing."

"Yeah, we are. We're supposed to take MIA as presumed dead. And think about Kurta's reaction even if we could save him. He'd be mad we risked our asses to save his."

"But... I can't just let him die."

"Gon, what matters right now is that we hold out as long as we can. We have to hold out at least until they sent some kind of backup, maybe another doctor, just, someone to back us up. We can't win on our own."

"But... what if they don't send backup?"

"They will. I'm sure they will."

"But what if they don't?"

"Then...Then I don't know what to do."

"I... I'm scared. I... I think we're gonna die Killua. I don't think we're gonna go home."

"But... Alluka. I promised Alluka..."

"We're going to die too... Just like everyone else..."

"Gon."

"Killua."

"I don't want to die."

"I don't want to die."

"I just want to go home."

"I just want to go home."

"This isn't worth it. The government didn't know what they were doing. They... were stupid..."

"Yeah. They were."

"What about Mito-san? What about Alluka? What are they supposed to do when they find out we're not coming back? What about Kurapika? We're his only hope if he's even still alive."

"Doesn't even matter. We can't save Kurta. There's no way we could save him. There's only two of us, and it's not like we have some kind of power that makes us impossible to detect. He's already dead, if he's even still alive."

Tears began to stream down Gon's face.

"This... isn't... this isn't fair. None of them deserved this. None of them deserved to die. Whatever they're doing to Kurapika, he doesn't deserve that either. And... I don't think we deserve to die either."

"No we don't. But that's not our choice right now."

"So why didn't we get a choice?"

"Because they know that no one would sign up. Why would they? The government probably wouldn't care anyway."

Killua turned around in the trench and put his gun above the lip of the trench. He stuck his head out and aimed before pulling the trigger. Causing a hail of gunfire to come their way.

"HEY YOU BASTARDS OVER THERE!" A voice came from the other trench.

Killua and Gon stared at each other for a few seconds before Killua decided to reply.

"WHAT DO YOU WANT?" Killua replied.

"WE HAVE ONE OF YOUR SOLDIER'S BODY, AND WE REALLY DON'T WANT IT."

"That's Kurapika." Gon whispered.

"Yeah, I know."

"Those bastards killed Kurapika."

"Yeah, I know."

Gon cocked his machine gun and joined Killua in his shooting position.

"Open fire in 3... 2... 1..."

Both Gon and Killua opened immediate fire on those in the opposite trench, who responded by shooting back with their great deal more soldiers and better weapons.

* * *

By the time any kind of backup arrived in the form of a small squadron of newbies, who had very little training, there weren't any soldiers left to back up.

The bodies of two 17-year-olds and one 22-year-old lay in the ditch, while a great deal of graves filled the rest of the trench.

The 22-year-old was covered in burns and cuts, and had died of a shot to the head, presumably from a handgun.

He had also obviously been thrown into the ditch later, judging by the way he was positioned in relation to the 17-year-olds.

The 17-year-olds had a great deal of old bullet wounds in legs, arms, and shoulders. Both had died of shots to the head from higher caliber weapons.

Eventually, the new squadron managed to send letters home to the families of the two younger boys. And tried to find any family member on the older one, but found he had none.

And they continued the war effort, not even thinking about all those who had died before them.

* * *

 **And here we are.**

 **And I actually wrote that.**

 **I made myself cry writing this.**

 **PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW!**


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